


Burned

by tepidspongebath



Series: It's Not My Cartel - I Just Do the Baking [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Eurus (far) in the background, Gen, Humor, do you have the (baked) goods?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:21:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28196115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tepidspongebath/pseuds/tepidspongebath
Summary: Sherlock finds out; the inadvisability of using the police as couriers; gingerbread houses; and everyone makes mistakes (sometimes murder just has to be done).
Series: It's Not My Cartel - I Just Do the Baking [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1009626
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	Burned

“So it was you all along.” Sherlock did not just shake his head. He contrived, by slumping his shoulders and softening his posture to look shocked, disappointed, and _hurt_. Even his curls looked offended. “You were the last person I suspected.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic.” Mrs. Hudson flicked a tea towel at him then turned back to her worktop. “Was it Anderson who told you? I knew I shouldn’t have trusted him, but everyone else was busy and I hated to send stale shortbread.”

“Nobody _told_ me. Your shortbread has a very distinctive crumb structure—”

“Sherlock...”

“And the bit of candied lemon peel could only have come from your Madeira cake—”

“Please stop lying to me, young man. You know I can tell.”

Sherlock opened his mouth to expound on the precise qualities of her fairy cakes, even sans icing, but changed his mind. Mrs. Hudson was holding a rather hefty rolling pen and giving every indication that she knew how to use it on things other than gingerbread. The skulls of certain consulting detectives, for instance.

“It was Donovan,” he said meekly. “She was worried you were running drugs out of your kitchen. She thought you were putting on the sweet little old lady act and using the police as couriers to allay suspicion.”

“Really?” Mrs. Hudson set down the rolling pin. “She seemed like such a nice young lady.”

“She’s suspicious by nature,” said Sherlock. “A useful trait in her line of work, though it frequently makes things inconvenient. She actually thought I was making the drugs for you—said it was more plausible than my having a secret sister. A reasonable deduction, especially since she’s seen your file.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, how often will I have to remind people it wasn’t _my_ cartel?”

“At least once more, apparently. And, as I recall, you had something of a managerial role.”

“ _Typing,_ dear.”

“As you say, Mrs. Hudson. But about Eurus—”

“Sherlock Holmes, you can stop right there. You eat my baking almost every day, and I make your tea every morning. _And_ most of your meals, since you and John rush about so much. You can’t object to my baking for your sister. Jealousy doesn’t suit you, dear.”

“It’s not—”

“Yes, I’m sure it isn't. I’m being careful. Like I told that brother of yours, I don’t even talk to her, and I don’t plan to change that. I won’t even send a Christmas card with her gingerbread house.”

“Mrs. Hudson, she’s killed people!”

“Everyone makes mistakes, and sometimes it just has to be done. Now, if you’re that upset about it, will you get John to help me with this instead, please? I’ve already burnt one batch of gingerbread because my hip’s acting up, and I did want to make sure she gets her little treat before Christmas. Oh, thank you, dear—that goes on the middle rack. Do you want to give me a hand with the icing too?”

**Author's Note:**

> Look, I know me. I'm currently in my Ebeneezer Scrooge phase of holiday preparedness, in which I grump and gripe because everything is so _pointless_ really, and Christmas is over-commercialized, and stop having parties, wear the damn masks, dog take you. 
> 
> _But_. 
> 
> I know that I'll eventually reach the stage where the relentless _glingle-glingle_ will get to me (sometime after the annual required viewing of "A Muppet Christmas Carol"), and - since I am not a unicorn - I will regret not having churned out at least one Christmas fic. So here's one. Kind of. 
> 
> Happy holidays, all.


End file.
